


Cooking is the Worst

by Actually_Ichimatsu



Series: Cooking is... [1]
Category: Sanders Sides, Thomas Sanders, Thomas Sanders (Video Blogging RPF) - Fandom
Genre: Cooking, Fluff, Gen, Little bit of anxious thoughts, Nicknames, Potatoes and Carrots, Slow Cookers, We need some good fluff after that episode, its virgil so obv
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-07
Updated: 2017-10-07
Packaged: 2019-01-10 04:54:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12291681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Actually_Ichimatsu/pseuds/Actually_Ichimatsu
Summary: Virgil had gotten out of cooking duty for one month too long, and now he has to cook. Cooking is hard.





	Cooking is the Worst

**Author's Note:**

> small note, Virgil gets a small injury but hes ok!!!!! 
> 
> I needed some fluff after that episode so HERE IT IS we all need it, and im awful at fluff so sorry lmao
> 
>  
> 
> [ From Here ](https://oopsprompts.tumblr.com/post/166112465001/were-i-a-root-vegetable-i-would-be-terrified)

“I can’t do this,” Virgil’s voice shook. Roman sighed exasperatedly. “Yes you can,” He rested his hand on his hip, and Virgil’s grip faltered on the knife. “Can’t you just help me?!” Virgil snapped, and Roman shook his head. “No can do, Marilyn Morose. Patton told me to just keep an eye on you.” Virgil growled. “You can’t even come up with a new name?”

Once every week, the Sides eat in, and fix their own food. Patton pitched the idea, to try to get Thomas to cook more. Logan agreed it was a logical hypothesis, and then set up a schedule for each of them to cook. They’ve had this schedule for three months now, and Virgil hadn’t cooked once, at least not until now.

Virgil always faked sick, instead of doing his shift in the schedule, and Logan had figured that out. Logan told Patton, and Patton approached Virgil about it. Virgil denied it, as one would. However, he forgot- he had cooking duty that night. 

“Good, then you’ll cook tonight!” Patton smiled widely, and Virgil froze. Virgil stammered trying to come up with an excuse, but Patton continued before he could come up with him. “Roman will supervise,” Patton clapped, excitedly. “I can’t wait! I’m sure your food will be great!” Patton hopped off, and Virgil stood there for a minute, his heart in his stomach.

Virgil hated cooking. They had a good system, they didn’t need him to convince Thomas to cook more. He wasn’t needed in everything, even if they said he had a ‘big sway in his decision making’, or if Thomas was a ‘habitual worrier’! Cooking was the bane of his existence. He would rather do anything over cooking. Because what if he burnt the house down? Or worse, he burnt the food? If he burnt the food, the food would be useless, and they wouldn’t have food, and they’d torment them, right? Right? 

“Ow!” The hand holding a half cut carrot jerked back, and he looked at it. The hand holding the knife had slipped slightly, and cut his other hand. It wasn’t bad. It just would need a bandaid, maybe. Darn. That means he won’t get out of cooking duty. However, he was embarrassing himself anyway. Roman asked if Virgil was okay, and Virgil just glared at him, holding his slightly hurt hand. Roman sighed, and reached for the first aid kit they left in the kitchen, and grabbed a bandaid from it, and walked over to Virgil, opening and applying the bandage. He looked at the potatoes and carrots, that Virgil was slowly but surely cutting through. Roman smirked. “No wonder you don’t ever cook, Cranky Smith,” Roman chuckled. 

Virgil would have thought more about the insult about his cooking skills, but… “Cranky Smith?” Virgil raised an eyebrow, and Roman looked at him incredulously. “Like, Granny Smith?” Virgil shook his head. Roman huffed. “You are impossible.” 

Virgil turned back to the vegetables. “So is cooking,” Virgil mumbled. Roman laughed at him, and Virgil cut through through the rest of the carrot, then pointed it at Roman in a half hearted anger. “I have the knife in this kitchen. I’m dangerous.” Virgil mumbled, and Roman smirked.

“Oh definitely, were I a root vegetable, I’d be terrified. You’re absolutely horrid at cutting at chopping them.” Roman stated, walking with an insolent air to a chair. Virgil waved the knife a little, before huffing again, and finishing chopping the vegetables for the dish. The potatoes and the carrots were put into the crockpot with some garlic and onions, and he left it there. He sat down beside Roman, laying his head down on the counter and hiding his head in his arms. Now he had to sit here uncomfortably with Roman for hours. Just great.

“We could watch something on the TV, or something.” Roman said from beside him, and Virgil jumped, almost forgetting Roman was right beside him, somehow. “No, we can’t, what if it burns somehow? Or something like that.” Virgil said not moving, miffed. Virgil could almost hear Roman’s eyes rolling. “Well, I’m going to watch something.” Roman stood up, and Virgil looked at the marble counters, and traced his hand against the ridges. Virgil heard the TV turn on, playing a Disney movie. Expected.

After a while, be it a few minutes or a few hours, Virgil couldn’t tell, Virgil felt ready to pass out from boredom. Virgil’s phone was charging from a full all-nighter the night before, so he didn’t have it. Virgil sighed, sitting up, stretching his already sore back. He knows slow-cookers are safe to leave unattended, but he didn’t really want to risk the low chance. But just sitting here was too much. Virgil got up, and walked towards the couch and past it. He sat in the arm chair, crossing his arms. Virgil huffed, like he didn’t want to be there, to fool Roman. The anxious side sunk in the chair, and sighed. The movie playing was Aladdin, and Virgil watched the movie with a bored demeanor, but lowkey interested. He always loved the movie, as it was after all Thomas’s favorite movie.

Virgil didn’t know when, but the movie changed to Peter Pan, and it was half way through the movie when Virgil next remembered. Virgil sat up, and checked on the time. It was around six in the afternoon. When had he put on the food? How had time passed so quickly? He knew it was around eleven when he came down, but when was the food put on? Virgil looked over where Roman had been, but he was asleep. Virgil huffed. The trait stood, and went into the kitchen. He opened the crockpot, and the food looked done. Was it?

This is why he hates cooking. Virgil trusted his first instinct, and called everyone to the meal, reluctantly. It probably wouldn’t even taste good. Soon enough, they had all gathered at the table, and the final testament was about to begin- they all began to eat. It was sort of bland, but not terrible. Virgil played with the food. 

“It’s good!” Patton cheered, scarfing down the food, and Virgil looked at him worriedly. It wasn’t that good. Virgil looked to Logan. Logan nodded, eating the food, however more calmly than the paternal side. “The food is decent. Though I would perhaps add more spices to it, and cut the vegetables smaller, it is highly satisfactory for your first meal.” Logan said, and Virgil smiled a little. Roman smirked, and took another bite of his own food. “Give my compliments to the chef.” Virgil looked away from the three of them, not used to the compliments. 

“Whatever,” Virgil mumbled, his cheeks burning, stabbing a potato and shoving it in his mouth. He still hated cooking. It was a lot of effort. A warmness filled his heart, though. Maybe he would cook more often, if it meant this sense of accomplishment. Or something, he didn’t know.


End file.
